Chapter 2 - Daddy Stay
Daniel did not sleep.
He booked a two-bedroom suite at a hotel in Aspen under an abbreviated version of his name, ordered nothing from room service, and spent most of the night sitting on the carpet beside Lily’s bed.
She refused to sleep unless he remained within reach.
Every time he shifted, her hand appeared from beneath the blanket.
“Daddy stay.”
“I’m staying.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
At two years old, promises were supposed to be simple things.
One more story.
Another glass of water.
A trip to see the horses after breakfast.
Daniel realized with sickening clarity that Lily had been asking him for a far larger promise for weeks, and he had not understood.
He had left her anyway.
At midnight, Deputy Karen Holt called.
“We completed the initial interviews. Nobody reports seeing Ms. Vanessa strike Lily.”
Daniel stared through the dark hotel window.
“That isn’t what Lily said.”
“I know. I’m telling you what the adults said.”
“All of them?”
A pause.
“All except your cousin Elise Mercer. She asked for time before giving a complete statement.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“What did Vanessa say?”
“That she was holding a frying pan because she had brought food from the kitchen. She says Lily knocked over the bread, screamed, and accused her because you entered at the wrong moment.”
“And my mother?”
“She says there was a family argument that became exaggerated.”
Daniel nearly laughed.
“What about calling Lily a bastard?”
“That was acknowledged.”
Of course it was.
Margaret had never been afraid of the cruel things she believed she could defend.
Deputy Holt continued, “You did the right thing leaving with your daughter. I would also recommend having Lily examined by her pediatrician and documenting any behavioral changes you’ve noticed.”
Daniel glanced toward the bedroom.
“Can a two-year-old even be interviewed properly?”
“Not by us in the way an older child would be. Don’t question her repeatedly. Don’t suggest answers. Let professionals handle that.”
“I understand.”
“And Mr. Mercer?”
“Yes?”
“Vanessa says you threatened her with the pan.”
Daniel’s hand tightened around the phone.
“I picked it up.”
“She says you raised it.”
“I never swung it. I never touched her.”
“Were there cameras?”
“Supposedly not anymore.”
The silence between them carried its own warning.
Daniel thanked her and ended the call.
At dawn, he found Lily awake, sitting against the headboard.
Her rabbit was tucked under her chin.
“You hungry?”
She shook her head.
“What about toast?”
Another shake.
“Banana?”
Her eyes moved toward the hotel door.
“Vanessa come?”
“No.”
“Grandma?”
“No.”
Only then did she nod.
Daniel ordered oatmeal, fruit, and toast.
When the covered room-service tray arrived, Lily climbed into his lap.
The server lifted the metal cover.
Lily flinched.
Daniel felt it.
He looked at the stainless-steel serving lid.
Round.
Black handle.
Not a frying pan.
But close enough.
He asked the server to leave everything uncovered.
After breakfast he called Lily’s pediatrician, Dr. Aisha Patel, who arranged to see her that morning.
Dr. Patel listened more than she spoke.
She examined Lily carefully and found no serious injuries. There were two faint bruises on one shin and another near her elbow, all consistent with ordinary toddler activity and useless as proof of mistreatment.
But Lily’s behavior concerned her.
When Daniel briefly stepped toward the door to speak with a nurse, Lily screamed.
Not cried.
Screamed.
He returned immediately.
Dr. Patel watched her cling to him.
“How long has she been doing that?”
“Maybe six weeks.”
“And what explanations were you given?”
Daniel hated the answer.
“Vanessa said Lily was manipulating me.”
Dr. Patel did not react visibly.
“Anything else?”
“She stopped wanting baths unless I was there. She asks me not to leave. She wakes up at night. She stopped eating dinner at the table.”
“Any sudden toilet-training regression?”
“She had started telling us before she needed changing. She stopped.”
Dr. Patel nodded.
“These behaviors have many possible causes. They are not proof of abuse. But taken together with what happened yesterday, they deserve attention.”
Daniel looked at Lily stacking wooden blocks.
“What do I do?”
“First, stability. Keep her routines predictable. Do not interrogate her. If she volunteers information, listen and write down her exact words afterward. I’ll refer you to a child-development specialist experienced in trauma.”
Daniel swallowed.
“And Vanessa?”
“Keep Lily away from anyone you reasonably believe frightens her until you’ve received proper guidance.”
That part, at least, was easy.
After the appointment Daniel drove to his attorney’s office.
Rebecca Shaw had handled corporate matters for him for seven years. She was also one of the few people in Daniel’s life who had never seemed impressed by the Mercer name.
She read the sheriff’s incident number.
Then the security-access log.
“Your mother disabled the camera?”
“Her credential did.”
“Those are not the same thing.”
“I know.”
Rebecca tapped the paper.
“Who else knew her password?”
“Probably Mateo. Maybe IT.”
“Don’t assume. Preserve the logs.”
Daniel’s phone buzzed.
A message from Mateo.
I found something else. Need to show you in person.
Daniel called immediately.
Mateo answered in a whisper.
“There are secondary logs from the security vendor. Margaret’s account didn’t just disable the dining-room camera.”
“What else?”
“Every time you left the lodge overnight during the last month, someone deactivated three interior cameras.”
Daniel stood.
“Which three?”
“Dining room. West hallway. Children’s playroom.”
His stomach dropped.
“Can anything be recovered?”
“I don’t know.”
Mateo hesitated.
“But the vendor stores maintenance diagnostics in the cloud for thirty days.”
“And?”
“I called them.”
Daniel waited.
“They have fragments.”
“How much?”
“I haven’t seen all of it.”
Mateo’s voice became quieter.
“But Daniel…”
“Yes?”
May you like
“One clip starts with Lily crying.”
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